Healing
by Swe13tie
Summary: George didn't think anyone could feel as bad as he did after his brothers' death. But then he met a girl, who didn't just loose her brother, she lost her entire family and her fiancé. One-shot.


A/N: Hello people, here is yet another one-shot, I might turn it into a longer story if enough people like it. So if you want me to tell me.

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter in any shape or forum.

George stood at the counter, counting the recites for the day. He had made yet another huge profit. He had made a couple hundred thousand galleons in the past month. He had made enough that no Weasley would ever have to worry about money for a couple of months. Though his family was very proud and didn't like to except money, even from him. So instead he buys them expensive gifts whenever he possibly can. He even demanded to pay for his little sister's wedding last year. Though the person Ginny married, Harry Potter, had enough money for it. Now his younger brother, Ron, was getting married and George had again demanded to pay for everything.

He let out a sigh as he lost count, because of his wondering thought. He usually had one of his employs do it, but he wanted to be alone tonight, so he had sent everybody home. Only a quarter of his employs worked this day anyways, most were out celebrating. Today was the fifth year anniversary of Voldemort's defeat. It had actually became a holiday in the wizarding world. Quite a few people had wanted to name Harry Potter Day. Harry had the funniest look on his face when he found that out. But they ended up calling it Freedom's Day, in honor of being freed from Voldemort.

The tips of George's lip twitched, despite his bitter mood. Today defiantly wasn't his favorite day. To him, it was the anniversary of losing his other half, his best friend, his favorite brother. He had been depressed for a very long time, he just couldn't get over it. He had forced himself to work on reopening Weasleys Wizard Wheezes. It had helped for a while, but after two years his depression got worse. He had even started drinking every night. After a while, he started taking the whole day off and just spend it at his apartment, drinking.

George groaned and put the recites back in the drew, he would take care of them in the morning. He grabbed his cloak from the back room and left the store, locking the door on his way out. He went straight to the Leaky Cauldron, ignoring all of the parties and celebrations. He arrived at the Leaky Cauldron in only a few minutes. The usual bartender, Tom, was standing at the counter. He nodded towards George and got him some fire-whiskey. George took it and went to his usual table, it was in the corner, he could easily see everyone in the bar, but they couldn't see him. But when he got there he saw someone was already there. He couldn't see her face, because her face was flat down on the table and her hair covered seemed to fall everywhere. Part of it was brown, the other half was multicolored, blue, red, pink, and purple.

George sat his fire-whiskey on the table and started poking the girl. She didn't even stir. So he tried shaking her slightly. She still didn't stir. "Wake up!" he said, shaking her again. No movement. "Screw it," he said, sitting down across from the girl. He opened his fire-whisky and took a drink.

George assumed the girl had been celebrating, drank to much, and passed out. But why she was by herself, he didn't know. Most people spent this holiday with family or friends. He took another drink from the bottle and started running his hand on a lock of her hair. Why would anybody do that to their hair? George thought. It's just plain weird.

"If you don't get your hands away from me I will curse you." George drew his hand back as if the girl was on fire. She slowly lifted her head off the table. George blushed, she was the prettiest girl he had ever seen. She wore no make-up like most girls, not even lipgloss, but she had an angel like face and hazel eyes, though her eyes were bloodshot, they were still beautiful. George had a odd feeling he had seen this girl before. But he was positive he would remember a girl that looked like this.

"Aw, George Weasley," the girl said. So maybe he did know her. "Come to drown your swallows?" She grabbed his bottle of fire-whiskey and, without asking, took a drink from it.

"Do I know you?" George asked, taking the bottle of fire-whiskey.

"No, but I know you. You had six siblings, but Fred died, five years exactly from today," the girl said. George frowned. How did she know so much about him. "Not to mention, since his death, you have been coming here, buying a bottle of fire-whiskey, drink it, and go home. Except for on Freedom's day, you usually stay home, and I get my favorite booth." She made a grab for George's fire-whiskey again, but he moved it out of her reach.

"Who the hell are you?" he asked.

"Esie, Esie Saintclair. I was in Ravenclaw, one year under you, so you probably don't remember me," she made another grab for his fire-whiskey. "You should share you know," she pouted.

"I paid for it, it's mine. Anyways, your already pass-out-drunk, I think you have had enough."

"I only drink once a year, Red. If I want to get drunk once a year, no one should stop me," she said. "I lost more then you, and you get drunk almost everyday, so if I want to get drunk one day out of the year, no one should stop me." She reached over and finally got George's fire-whiskey.

"What do you mean you have lost more?" he asked.

"I lost my brother too. But I also lost my older sister and parents. And my husband too, we eloped five months before," she took another swig from the bottle. "I was at a doctor's appointment at the time. The dark mark was above my house when I got home. Two days later, my doctor told me I was going to have a baby." George stared, he thought he had lost everything, but he still had most of his family and friends. "A few weeks later," Esie continued, "I was in the wrong place at the wrong time, I was attacked by a deatheater, I lost the baby."

"I'm so sorry," George choked out, tears threatening to fall.

"Don't be, it happened, it's over, hurts like crazy some days. But if your focus on the pain itself you'll only hurt more," she handed him the bottle back. "I only let myself drink over their deaths one day of the year. I suggest you do the same."

Esie stood up and went to leave. "Hey!" she stopped and turned around at his voice. "Does it help with the pain?"

She smiled. "I only feel true pain once a year. Which is a hell of a lot better then everyday."

George nodded and Esie turned and left. He set his fire-whiskey on the other side of the table. If a girl could heal after losing her entire family, why can't he heal? He still had most of his family. He needed to heal. He stood up and threw the right amount of money on the counter and left. He went to his apartment and emptied all of his alcohol down the sink and threw away the bottles.


End file.
